·
3 мин
Слушать

To The Memory Of Mrs Lefroy Who Died Dec 16 -- My Birthday

The day returns again, my natal day;

What mix'd emotions with the Thought arise!

Beloved friend, four years have pass'd

Since thou wert snatch'd forever from our eyes.— The day, commemorative of my

Bestowing Life and Light and Hope on me,

Brings back the hour which was thy last on Earth.

Oh! bitter pang of torturing Memory!— Angelic Woman! past my power to

In Language meet, thy Talents,

Temper, mind.

Thy solid Worth, they captivating Grace!—Thou friend and ornament of Humankind!— At Johnson's death by Hamilton t'was said,'Seek we a substitute—Ah! vain the plan,

No second best remains to Johnson dead—None can remind us even of the Man.' So we of thee—unequall'd in thy

Unequall'd thou, as he the first of Men.

Vainly we search around the vacant place,

We ne'er may look upon thy like again.

Come then fond Fancy, thou indulgent Power,——Hope is desponding, chill, severe to thee!—Bless thou, this little portion of an hour,

Let me behold her as she used to be.

I see her here, with all her smiles benign,

Her looks of eager Love, her accents sweet.

That voice and Countenance almost divine!—Expression,

Harmony, alike complete.— I listen—'tis not sound alone—'tis sense,'Tis Genius,

Taste and Tenderness of Soul.'Tis genuine warmth of heart without

And purity of Mind that crowns the whole.

She speaks; 'tis Eloquence—that grace of

So rare, so lovely!—Never

By her to palliate Vice, or deck a Wrong,

She speaks and reasons but on Virtue's side.

Her's is the Energy of Soul sincere.

Her Christian Spirit ignorant to feign,

Seeks but to comfort, heal, enlighten, chear,

Confer a pleasure, or prevent a pain.— Can ought enhance such Goodness?—Yes, to me,

Her partial favour from my earliest

Consummates all.—Ah!

Give me yet to

Her smile of Love.—the Vision disappears. 'Tis past and gone—We meet no more below.

Short is the Cheat of Fancy o'er the Tomb.

Oh! might I hope to equal Bliss to go!

To meet thee Angel! in thy future home!— Fain would I feel an union in thy fate,

Fain would I seek to draw an Omen

From this connection in our Earthly date.

Indulge the harmless weakness—Reason, spare.—

0
0
94
Подарок

Jane Austen

Jane Austen (16 December 1775 – 18 July 1817) was an English novelist known primarily for her six major novels, which interpret, critique and co…
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Сегодня читают
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.